


make-believe

by QueenCamellia



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Past Lives, Pining Gon Freecs, Reincarnation, side leopika but it's mostly killugon so i'm not tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26641675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCamellia/pseuds/QueenCamellia
Summary: “In my next life, I want to be me and meet you again!”Gon’s not sure what he’s looking for. (...orwhohe’s looking for.)All he knows is that sometimes, he’s struck with the urge to turn around and share a funny thought with a person who’s not there.
Relationships: Gon Freecs & Kurapika, Gon Freecs & Kurapika & Leorio Paladiknight & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	make-believe

**Author's Note:**

> I, uh, binged the entire 2011 hxh anime about a week ago and fell in love with the series, so anticipate several more (primarily killugon) fics in the upcoming weeks :)
> 
> this was kinda written in the spur of the moment DIHSGOSDG so it's messier than my usual fics but,,, I love killugon dearly and,,, I shall produce more content soon

Gon’s always had the vaguest feeling that he was missing something.

When he was younger, he’d sneak into the landlady’s office and steal the key to the rooftop of their apartment complex to search for shooting stars, much to Mito-san’s chagrin. Gon has always, always been drawn to the night sky for some inexplicable reason.

His efforts to search for stars generally had been futile. He and Mito-san lived in the heart of Yorknew, one of the busiest cities in the world—and one of the greyest, its skies dreary and the air polluted. It would’ve been a miracle for him to make out anything other than the moon when nighttime fell.

He wasn’t sure why he tried searching the sky for answers, in retrospect, but he couldn’t stop.

It’s during one of those late night escapades, at the tender age of eight, when a name comes to him:

_Killua._

“Killua,” he says, testing the name. It feels familiar. He tries again. “...Killua. _Killua.”_

Gon descends from the rooftop earlier than usual, and awkwardly laughs when he’s met with an exasperated Mito-san who talks his ear off about how he shouldn’t be awake at such a time since _you’re a growing boy, Gon, go to bed._

He’s grounded for a week, and the landlady finally learns to lock her keys in her desk to keep them away from curious eight years olds. For the most part, Gon doesn’t mind; he’s too preoccupied with the elusive figure in his dreams.

Said figure in his dreams is...frustrating. They’re nothing more than a nameless shadow, a blurry form who he wishes he could make out. Everything in his dreams sounds fuzzy, sort of like the static that distorts whatever tune they’re listening to whenever Mito-san drives out of range of a radio tower.

Sometimes, Gon catches a wisp of laughter.

_(“Who are you?” he wants to scream, but the words don’t come out. “What do you mean to me?”)_

* * *

You’d think that it’d be hard to miss something you don’t know, but Gon’s got that feeling down to a science.

Sometimes, he’ll come up with a funny thought and instinctively turn to his side—wanting to share it with someone who isn’t there.

Sometimes, he’ll wake up and mumble “good morning” to an empty room, reaching out and grasping nothing but empty air.

Sometimes, he’ll see something (a pretty yoyo, a scrumptious-looking chocolate cake) and think _‘Killua would love this.’_

But he doesn’t _know_ any “Killua,” and every time that name pops into his mind, Gon feels frustration bubble up inside him. Not aimed at whoever Killua may be...but towards himself.

Gon doesn’t know a Killua, but he feels like he _should._

He does his best to not let that name and everything it entails bother him too much. It works, sort of. Gon meets an earnest boy named Zushi, two years younger than him, when he’s eleven and signs up for karate lessons at a nearby dojo.

“Are we friends?” Zushi asks one day, once they’re done sparring. Hesitance lines his voice. “I’ve never had a friend around my age!”

 _Me neither,_ Gon almost says, which is true. He hasn’t. But something stops him.

“Of course we’re friends!” Gon declares instead, flashing the younger boy a bright smile; they exchange grins, collapsing on the floor of the dojo and exchanging jokes at Wing-sensei’s expense. He lets himself bask in their laughter, soaking in the joy and wonder of the moment. When their teacher comes over to instruct them on a new step sequence, Gon acknowledges his instructions with a firm “osu!”

He and Zushi make progress in leaps and bounds; Gon takes to karate like a fish to water. Zushi, admittedly, learns more slowly than him, but his determination and persistence take him far. By the time the year ends, both of them have grown adept enough, taking on opponents twice or thrice their weight with relative ease.

Gon finds a friend in Zushi, and Zushi finds a friend in him.

It should be enough, Gon thinks. It should be enough to quell the hole that’s burrowed itself into his heart, right? He has a friend—a close friend, a kind friend.

But they’re not best friends (and he thinks Zushi senses it too, accepts it even).

When Gon thinks about best friends, two children’s laughter rings in his ears.

_(“I want to introduce Ging to my best friend in the whole world!”)_

* * *

Gon’s elementary and middle school years fly by in a flash. While he’s not the smartest tool in the shed, especially at math, he gets by. He makes a few other friends: Ponzu, a curious girl fascinated with insects, sits with Gon at lunch and chats with him about nature and the like. She introduces him to Pokkle, who’s a bit standoffish at first, but eventually gives into Gon’s easy smiles and earnest laughter. While both of them are two years older than him, they treat Gon like they would any peer their age.

He meets Palm, a charming barista by day and twitchy but perceptive occult-lover by night, at age twelve when he stumbles upon the coffee shop she works at. While she’s several years older than him, Gon wins her over with his limitless optimism. Soon enough, Knov’s Coffee is his friends’ default hangout place on the weekends.

Mito-san gives him a cell phone at thirteen. He finds a hobby in photography, surprising everyone who knows him.

Photography is a quiet task. It entails patience, an eye for detail, and observation...while Gon’s loud, rambunctious, and can barely sit still.

Admittedly, Gon isn’t the _best_ at taking pictures. Many of them come out blurry, as he’s always taking them on the go, often literally (he’s taken more pictures while riding his bike than he can count). But there’s something reassuring about capturing a moment and keeping the picture forever as a memento; there’s no way that he can forget anything this way.

So Gon takes pictures.

He takes pictures of Mito-san while she’s cooking. She laughs and swats at him with a towel, but smiles warmly and lets him take a couple before forcing him to help her chop up some meat or wash some vegetables.

He takes pictures of Pokkle, Ponzu, and Palm during their weekly meet-ups. While most are admittedly unflattering images of them poking around at ant hills and the like, some are nice candids from their forages at the cafe or mall.

He takes pictures of Zushi and Wing-sensei during practice; sometimes before, sometimes after. Zushi complains about how he takes pictures at the most inconvenient and sweaty times, but he still gives Gon a thumbs-up every time the shutter snaps shut.

For all the pictures Gon takes, he never takes one of himself.

That’s not to say he’s camera-shy; if someone else is taking a picture at a party, he’ll sit still long enough to flash the camera a smile before bounding off to chat with somebody. Gon knows there are others who are...averse to getting photographed, but he really _doesn’t_ mind.

It just doesn’t feel right.

* * *

Gon meets an old friend at age fifteen, and slowly the puzzle pieces start to come together.

He’s at a bookshop inside a mall, perusing the aisles in search of interesting action comic books. It’s a halfhearted effort; Gon’s really just killing time while waiting for his friends to finish purchasing whatever shiny makeup products that have caught their eye in a nearby store. He settles on some fantasy comic and approaches the counter.

“Excuse me,” Gon says to the bookshop’s sole employee, a blonde sitting behind a counter who seems to be absorbed in a book themself. 

The blonde jolts, snapping the book shut. “Sorry, how can I— _Gon?”_

Gon blinks in surprise, wondering if he should recognize the employee from somewhere. He tilts his head and studies them. Gon doesn’t frequent the book shop too often, and while the employee looks at most a couple of years older than him, he doesn’t think that he’s seen them at school. Gon’s about to ask if they’ve mistaken him for someone else (though it’s unlikely; Ging’s naming sense is _unique_ to say the least) when...

...unbidden, a name falls from his lips.

“...Kurapika?”

Gon’s gaze slides down, spotting the name tag fastened to the blonde’s collared shirt. Sure enough, bold cerulean letters spell “Kurapika,” a name that he’s never seen in his life. It’s a name he shouldn’t have known. Gon has never met this person before, yet…

His throat feels dry, and he feels like he wants to cry.

“It’s...you—” Kurapika seems to be struggling with words himself. He settles with, “I never thought I’d meet you.” 

_‘Again’_ goes unspoken.

“Kurapika,” Gon repeats, ever so quietly. He’s not usually the type to stumble over his words, but his friend’s appearance has thrown him off. Disbelief morphs into stunned ecstasy. “It’s...it’s really you, isn’t it?”

It’s like a dam breaks.

Another life’s memories hit him like a tidal wave. At dizzyingly fast speeds, memories of scarlet eyes, chains, and a never ending quest for vengeance flash in Gon’s mind. They’re his memories, from a time and a life he’d long forgotten—all he knows is that this is Kurapika, but the vengeful person in his memories was also Kurapika, and…

...and there were more, more people who he’d forgotten…

...more memories resurfacing...

Gon stumbles back, and if he’d been paying better attention, he would’ve noticed Kurapika try to reach out and steady him. He doesn’t, though, swept away by too many emotions.

_(“All good Hunters get along well with animals.”)_

How could he?

_(“Let’s meet at Yorknew City, on September 1st!”)_

After everything that had happened...

_(“I’ll continue to keep you alive until you’ve grown enough to become worth killing.”)_

...how could Gon have forgotten?

_(“I'll coach you from now on, and for free. But I definitely won't go easy on you!”)_

That previous life that had seemed so distant and dreamlike suddenly felt real—real enough that Gon could practically feel the Nen coursing through his veins, even though this world had nothing of the sort.

Kurapika, Leorio...Bisky, Kite...Hisoka and Illumi and the Phantom Troupe…

_(“Kite said that no matter where we go, we’ll always be friends!”)_

_...Killua._

Kurapika’s hand lands on his shoulder, startling Gon out of his thoughts.

“It’s me,” he confirms, squeezing him gently. “I’m working right now, but we can talk later. Do you want me to ring that up?”

“Huh? Ah, yeah.” Gon shuffles through his pockets and manages to procure a sufficient amount of Jenny to cover the cost. His response is mostly automatic since he’s too caught up in the flood of memories that have taken him by a storm. “Thank you.”

Kurapika smiles, and Gon’s relieved to see that his companion’s smile meets his eyes. He hopes Kurapika’s happier in this life.

“Gon!” Pokkle waves from outside the store. “Ready to go?”

“I’m coming!” he answers, torn between reuniting with his friends and staying here with Kurapika _(one of his first and closest friends, even with everything that's happened)._

Kurapika hands him the book back, neatly wrapped in brick red paper. “I’ll see you later.”

"I missed you," Gon returns, clutching onto the wrapped book like a lifeline. "Bye, Kurapika."

For the rest of their outing, Gon’s distracted. His friends notice, but they’re kind enough to not point it out.

When he returns home in the evening and unwraps his package, he almost breaks down in tears when he sees Kurapika’s familiar scrawl on a sticky-note attached to the book. Fingers trembling, he presses those numbers into his phone and waits.

It’s a terrifyingly long fifteen second wait before Kurapika picks up.

“Kurapika,” Gon starts haltingly, staring at the ceiling. “How much do you remember?”

There’s a heavy exhale on the other end of the line. _“...bits and pieces.”_

He thinks of Ponzu, Pokkle, Palm, Mito-san, Zushi, Wing-sensei... “Do you think it’s just us?”

Another sigh, this time more frustrated. _“...who knows?”_

* * *

The next stranger he recognizes is Bisky.

“Ohoho, so you’ve heard of my jewel collection? Well, it’s nice to hear that some youngsters still have nice taste!”

Gon’s grateful she falls for his fib. When he had seen Bisky arguing with a man on the street (though perhaps “arguing” is too kind a descriptor; Bisky had been verbally destroying the guy), Gon had lost his composure and called out to her. It quickly became clear she didn’t remember anything either, and there went Kurapika’s theory about talented Nen users’ memories carrying on past their deaths.

“Are you new to town?” he asks, not willing to let his former mentor slip from his grasp so quickly. “I can show you around!”

She waves him off, of course. “Thanks for the offer, kiddo, but I’ve got places to be. The Blue Planet isn’t going to buy itself!”

Just like a whirlwind, she’s there one moment and gone the next. Gon barely has the presence of mind to shout goodbye before she’s off and lost in the crowds once more. Something in his heart squeezes.

He knows that he’s not owed anyone’s time just because they once knew each other. Hell, Bisky doesn’t know him at all; from her perspective, he’s just a nice fan who’s heard of her jewelry collection (which she’s apparently famous for in certain circles).

Still, it hurts, and when he gets home, Gon runs over the interaction in his head and wonders if he could’ve done anything different. There must have been _something_ he could’ve done to initiate a conversation and begin building a new relationship with Bisky. 

If it had worked out the first time, and the universe had decided to let their paths cross again in this life, there must have been some way.

Gon closes his eyes, trying not to think about what he’d do if another person he cares deeply for _(Leorio...Kite...Killua)_ brushes past him, only to never look back while walking away.

He calls Kurapika, who picks up at the second ring. (Evidently, his friend’s fostered better habits in this life.)

“I saw Bisky for a little,” he tells him.

Kurapika goes quiet for what feels like the longest time. _“Did she look happy?”_

Thinking about Kurapika’s question relieves all the tension from Gon’s shoulders. “Yeah,” he says, and while he’s still a little sad, he’s also glad.

_“Then that’s all that matters.”_

Now that he thinks about it, Kurapika’s responses carry a weight to them. “Kurapika, have you…?”

 _“I have,”_ his friend confirms. _“I’ve bumped into a couple of my former coworkers once or twice. They all seem well.”_

Gon swallows. “I’m glad.”

_“Yeah.”_

* * *

Gon meets Leorio again in (surprise, surprise) a clinic.

What’s funny is that he’s not the patient for once; he’s waiting on Pokkle, who accidentally cut his hand while messing around with some kitchen knives. Gon had been joking with the ginger about how silly his injury was when the doctor’s assistant walked in, startling Gon right out of his seat.

He hits the ground, but barely registers the brief flare of pain. His eyes are too busy drinking in Leorio’s presence.

“You okay, kid?!”

“Leorio,” Gon says, since he’s never had a working brain-to-mouth filter. His breath hitches. “Leorio...”

“That’s me. Did the doc tell you my name beforehand?”

“I’m Gon Freecss,” he blurts out, waving his hand vaguely in Pokkle’s direction. “His friend.”

 _Your friend,_ Gon doesn’t say. He almost bites his tongue to keep himself from blurting it out.

While Leorio looks bewildered, he’s kind enough to laugh off Gon’s strange behavior. “Well, guess the cat’s out of the bag. The name’s Leorio Paladiknight! I’m a medical intern.”

* * *

“Did you know?” Gon asks Kurapika. The two of them seated at one of those high-rise tables tucked snugly into a corner of a nearby neighborhood cafe. “About Leorio.”

Kurapika stirs his coffee around with the little silver spoon the cafe had provided. He doesn’t meet Gon’s eyes. “It doesn’t take a genius to look up the names of our old acquaintances.”

Gon frowns. He hadn’t thought of doing something like that.

They sit in silence for a bit, each absorbed in his own thoughts.

Studying his friend, realization dawns upon Gon. 

“You knew he didn’t know you,” he deduces. While Killua’s always been the brainier of the two, Gon isn’t terrible at reading people; moreover, Kurapika’s his _friend_. In both his previous life and this one.

“I met him briefly.”

Gon ignores the air of finality to Kurapika’s reply. “Why don’t you approach him again?”

“Some things…” Kurapika halts. “...some things are better left in the past, Gon. We shouldn’t dwell upon our past lives too much.”

Gon shakes his head fiercely. He understands Kurapika’s reasoning, he does, but…

“He’s still Leorio. Even without those memories, he’s still the same.”

Kurapika grips onto his cup tightly. His knuckles are white. “I know, Gon.”

“Then why are you giving up on him?”

“It’s not…” Kurapika pauses, visibly trying to regain his composure. “They’re living completely different lives now. All of them, Gon. Even Killua.”

The name strikes him like lightning, stunning him into silence. (Of course it would. Killua’s always been like lightning. Few people are able to affect him the way his best friend does.)

“So are we,” Gon says. 

There’s a beat of silence—heavy, still silence. They’re both absorbed in their thoughts and emotions. Frustration. Loneliness. Hope. Longing. Gon wrestles with all of those emotions, his heart wrenching with agony and pitiable hope at the same time.

While Kurapika is smart and wonderful, Gon privately thinks his friend is wrong: they’re not clinging onto the past. They’re using those memories to help them build a new, better future for all their friends, past and present.

Gon puffs out his cheeks, done with overthinking. The action draws Kurapika’s attention. “Is everything alright?”

He pulls out his phone. “Smile for the camera?”

Gon’s previous words still are clearly weighing on his friend’s mind, but Kurapika laughs and complies. “You’re something else, Gon.”

* * *

 _Killua Zoldyck_ has no search results. The sheer unlikelihood of that happening leaves Gon panicking.

_What if…he doesn't exist in this world?_

No. Gon refuses to believe that. He's met so many of their other friends and companions from that life; he _knows_ there has to be Killua out there. Somewhere.

They'll meet again. He's sure of it. And if the universe doesn't have them stumbling into each other, Gon will travel to the ends of the earth and search for him. It'll be a piece of cake compared to Ging.

"I'll find you," he promises.

There's a sinking feeling in his gut, though: while Gon's dumb and hadn't thought of searching up his former friends, Killua is smarter than that.

If he remembers, Killua would have already searched for Gon (at least, that’s what Gon hopes). And Gon, with his photo blog and incessant social media presence thanks to the combined efforts of Pokkle, Palm, and Ponzu…he's searchable.

It's possible there are other reasons why Killua hasn't approached him. But it's likely…

Gon shakes those thoughts away. _Killua is Killua, with or without his memories._

If he's not going to come looking for him first, Gon will come to him.

* * *

While ascending the steps of the subway station, Gon spots someone with silver-white hair out of the corner of his eye. 

Killua. It’s got to be him.

Immediately, time freezes. Gon instinctively reaches out for the figure, only to lose them in the crowd.

He spends the next ten minutes trying to track down the passerby. When he finally accosts them, he realizes it’s some random teenager whose resemblance to Killua...really stops at the hair.

The teenager has dull hazel eyes and wears a plain hoodie that Killua would rather die before getting caught in. Moreover, they don’t have his smile, nor his laugh, nor his warm gaze. Affronted, they heave a sigh and blow bubble-gum at him. “Can I go now?”

It’s hard to disguise the disappointment that threatens to overwhelm him. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

The teenager leaves and Gon’s left feeling lonelier than he had been before.

* * *

Being with Killua had once been like breathing: right, easy, natural.

Separating from Killua after the Chimera Ants had been hard, at first, but necessary for both of them to grow as individuals.

Killua...he was an irreplaceable person to the Gon who had been a hunter. Gon didn’t know where he would have been without the lightning user by his side during those times.

This Gon—the Gon he is now—has spent his whole life without Killua.

He’s seen things that the Nen-user Gon never has. He’s made friends with people who the previous Gon barely knew, if at all. He’s become a different (and hopefully, better) person from the Gon in his memories. He’s still independent, cheerful, adventurous, and straightforward...but he’s also more thoughtful, more quiet, less headstrong.

Gon isn’t the Gon who dreamed of finding his father and becoming a hunter anymore.

Yet, despite all those changes, Gon still misses his best friend.

At eighteen, he takes the elevator up the highest tower in Yorknew and ends up on the observation deck, miles above the glimmering city lights. He stares at the sky and remembers those nights under the stars from a lifetime ago.

“I want to see you,” he says to the person who should be by his side. His audience is nobody but the moon.

_(“In my next life, I want to be me and meet you again!”)_

* * *

Gon runs into Killua at age eighteen. Literally.

It’s not the best nor the worst as far as first meetings go; Gon's in a hurry to make it to class, Killua's walking along with a cup of coffee in hand, and the two collide when they turn the corner.

Coffee splashes all over Gon's shirt, and if he hadn't been so preoccupied with the fact that he'd just run into _Killua,_ he would've noticed it was kinda hot.

"Ow, ow, ow," Killua groans, sprawled on the ground as Gon is. He catches sight of the coffee splattered over Gon's shirt and immediately scrambles over to him. "Shit, you okay?"

Gon stares.

“I missed you” is at the tip of his tongue, but how is he supposed to say that to a Killua who remembers nothing about them? The person in front of him is Killua, for sure; Gon could recognize those electric-blue eyes anywhere, anytime, any life...and the slightly panicked expression he wears reminds Gon of happier times in Heaven’s Arena when it was them against the world. But back then, Killua’s gaze had held a comforting familiarity to them.

This Killua’s gaze is that of a stranger’s.

Gon wants nothing more than to cry out Killua’s name and hug him—his best friend in the entire world, his most precious comrade, his trusted partner—but he’s long past his days as an impulsive, naive youth from Whale Island. He isn’t even _from_ an island in this life; Gon’s known nothing but cloudy skies and pollution-hidden stars this entire life. 

So instead of launching himself into Killua’s arms, as he might’ve done in another life...Gon holds back, fingers digging into his skin as he clenches his fists.

“Sorry,” he offers, laughing sheepishly. "I should've looked where I was going. Are you alright?"

"You an idiot?" Killua returns briskly as he stands up and dusts off his pants—and ah, yes, this was Killua alright. "I'm fine, look at you!"

"Eh?" Gon looks down and finally realizes that his chest is sorta burning. "Oh."

Killua groans and jabs a finger at him. "Are you a serial killer?"

"I'm a student," Gon replies stupidly, then blinks. "Do I look like a serial killer?"

"Here," Killua says, holding out his hand. While Gon's still confused, he takes it and Killua hauls him to his feet. "It doesn't look too bad, but you can't be sure. My apartment's just around the corner. Is that cool with you?"

"Cool," Gon echoes, frowning as Killua lets go of his hand. "How do I know you're not a serial killer?"

Killua shoots him a half-exasperated, half-frustrated look that clearly spells _"is now the time to be asking that?"_

"I'm a student too," Killua says, since that's apparently now the criteria for not being a murderer. He motions for Gon to follow him. They end up in front of a high-rise just a couple of paces away from their collision site; Killua ushers Gon inside before he can take the time to admire the building.

When Killua unlocks his apartment door, Gon can't help but stare. Even the entryway feels distinctly like his best friend's taste. The walls are painted a murky blue-grey; the shade reminds Gon of the sea on a misty day. While the apartment isn't cluttered, it's certainly not empty: little knick-knacks are everywhere, from the collection of yo-yos and tops in a little glass case to the wooden figurines perched on top of a bookshelf.

Photos decorate the walls, and Gon recognizes Alluka's face in an instant. There's a sea of faces he doesn't know, but he registers a younger, smiling Killua in one frame and suddenly the world feels a little more right.

"The bathroom's to the right," Killua explains, breaking Gon out of his reverie. "Just run cold water for like, twenty minutes and you should be fine."

Gon's about to start for the bathroom when he realizes something and groans.

"Something wrong?"

"I'm going to be late for class." He sounds a little whiny, but Gon had actually been _looking forward_ to college, for once. They were going to be discussing the ethics of animal research.

Killua huffs. There's a note of amusement in his voice that Gon wouldn't have been able to catch had he not drawn upon years of experience being Killua's best friend. "Well, so am I."

Gon does eventually enter the bathroom; while he hadn't suffered the most severe of burns, he isn't eager to keep his coffee-stained shirt on any longer than necessary.

Standing under the cold running water, away from Killua's magnetic presence, helps Gon gather his thoughts.

  1. He's found Killua again. 
  2. Killua does not remember him.
  3. Killua is still very much the same person he was back then.
  4. Gon wants to be his friend again.



He turns off the shower and meets a dilemma when he stumbles out. Gon's boxers and shorts are fine, but he only has one shirt, and it looks like it's been put through the wringer.

Well, he can deal with it for a bit. Gon pulls on his boxers and is about to wear his shorts when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

Killua's voice is muffled, but rings true in the small bathroom space. "Hey, I've got a shirt for you since I'm guessing you don't want to walk around in sugary coffee all day."

Gon opens the door quickly, beaming. "Thanks, Killua!" he chirps, grabbing the t-shirt from the silver-haired male's hands and shutting the door. Killua makes some kind of garbled noise in response; it's hard to tell with the door shut.

The t-shirt isn't something he would've thought Killua would buy. It's a bit tacky, to be honest; Gon bets someone bought it for Killua as a joke. While it's a bit small on Gon, it'll do. He puts it on, folds his own shirt, and tucks the folded shirt under his arm.

“Sorry about earlier,” Gon says just as Killua asks, "How do you know my name?"

For a brief moment, Gon panics. Then, he tilts his head and asks, "Was I wrong?"

"No, but…"

Inspiration hits him. "It said 'Alluka' and 'Killua' on the doors I passed by, so I just assumed."

"Ah." Killua looks placated for the moment. "Sorry. It's just—you know…"

He waves his hands around vaguely, and while Gon does not know, he nods along. "Yeah."

They stand there, staring at each other.

"Why'd you think I was Killua, though?"

"You didn't look like an Alluka," Gon explains, shrugging. "You felt like a Killua."

Killua scoffs. "You're weird."

"I'm Gon," he corrects. "Gon Freecss."

"Did I ask?" Killua laughs at Gon's expression. "I'm just kidding. We could’ve met in better circumstances, but you’re alright, I guess. Are you a Yorknew University student too?"

"Yep," Gon replies, popping the 'p.' "I'm an ecology major. What about you?"

"Law." (Well, at least that explains why they never saw each other on campus.)

They linger in the hallway for a couple of seconds. Then, _Killua_ blurts out, “Can I have your number?”

“W—”

“For when you return my shirt later,” he clarifies, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’d be pretty rude to stop by without a heads-up.”

“Yes!” Gon exclaims before Killua’s finished, eyes rounding as he tries to suppress his enthusiasm. Judging by the way Killua ducks his head and flushes scarlet, Gon’s excitement must’ve been more transparent than he thought.

Gon clears his throat. “I’d, uh, I’d like that. Killua.”

He won’t let Killua slip through his fingers as Bisky had.

“Great, great.” Killua swallows. “It’s Zoldyck, by the way. My last name.”

“I’m Gon. Gon Freecss.”

Despite it all, Killua snorts, the tension dissipating from his body as he pulls out his phone. “You said so before already, stuuuupid.”

(Their meeting’s nothing like their race in the tunnels a lifetime ago. But it’s still _something,_ and Gon clings to that.)

**Author's Note:**

> (whispers) if you have time, feel free to leave a comment!! I read them all :)  
> kudos appreciated too tho (￣▽￣)ノ


End file.
